Chapter 3 - The Aftermath
The heavy wooden doors of the chapel slammed shut behind us, cutting off the sounds of Chloe’s wailing.
Liam let out a long, ragged sigh, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.
“I am so incredibly sorry, Maya,” he said, crouching down to my eye level.
“I had no idea she was capable of being that cruel.”
I offered him a small, sad smile, adjusting my satin gloves over my scarred wrists.
“You don't need to apologize for her, Liam,” I told him gently.
“She has always cared more about how things look than how they actually feel.”
Eleanor directed us toward a sleek black town car waiting at the curb.
“We are taking you home, Maya,” Eleanor announced, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“Or, rather, we are taking you to my estate.”
“I highly doubt you want to return to a house with those spineless enablers you call parents.”
She was right; going back to my parents' house would mean facing a barrage of blame and guilt trips.
I agreed, and Liam carefully helped me transition from my wheelchair into the plush leather seat of the car.
As the car pulled away, I watched the chapel fade into the distance.
For the first time in twenty years, I felt a strange sense of liberation washing over me.
I was no longer bound by the obligation to protect my sister's fragile ego.
When we arrived at the Vance estate, a sprawling mansion surrounded by ancient oak trees, Eleanor immediately ordered tea.
We sat in her sunlit conservatory, the atmosphere calm and completely devoid of the morning's toxic drama.
Liam poured me a cup of chamomile tea, his hands still shaking slightly from the adrenaline.
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“What happens now?” I asked, looking between the two of them.
“Now, we cancel the catering, and we let Chloe explain to her hundreds of guests why there is no reception,” Eleanor said with a ruthless smirk.
